A Very Figrid Yuletide
by Curlyhedgehog
Summary: Fili makes it through a snowstorm to celebrate Yuletide with Sigrid and her family at Bard's house. Some fluffy Figrid goodness for the holidays. AU everyone lives.


Sigrid drew back the curtain and peered through the window at the snowy Midwinter night. Fili had said he would be there in time for supper, but the last few hours had seen the wind pick up dramatically, and the snowfall that had begun so gently in the morning had become heavier and heavier until it had become an all-out blizzard. She let the curtain fall with a sigh, and turned back and looked around the room with wistful eyes. The Yule log was blazing merrily in the hearth, which was bedecked with boughs of evergreen, woven with strands of ivy and dotted with holly sprigs, and sprays of mistletoe decorated the lintel of every doorway. The great wassail bowl brimming with mulled wine and sops, in pride of place in the centre of the kitchen table, and the figgy puddings next to it, that she had made the day before from a old, treasured recipe of her mother's, were both awaiting the carollers that now looked unlikely to be knocking on their door. The scent of warm pine resin from the hearth and the cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg from the wassail filled the house, and combined with the tantalising smell of roast pork coming from the kitchen, was the very essence of Yuletide, and would have filled Sigrid's heart with happiness if not for the fact that Fili was going to miss it all.

Bard, Bain and Tilda were sitting by the fire, cups of wassail in hand. Tilda called out for Sigrid to come and join them.

"Come have a cup, Sigrid. You've worked so hard, and it all looks beautiful. Come sit down and relax."

Sigrid nodded ruefully, helped herself to a cup of wassail and joined her family by the hearth.

"The carollers will be around tomorrow, Sis," said Bain, reaching out and rubbing Sigrid's arm. "The wine and puddings will keep 'til then."

"I know," she said. "I'm just disappointed that Fili's going to miss it, that's all. It's his first Midwinter with us."

Bard glanced towards the back door and pursed his lips. "Well, I wouldn't be too sad too soon, Sigrid love."

At that moment, the back door burst open in a flurry of snow and freezing air, and a heavily cloaked figure came inside, slamming the door shut behind him and dropping a small bulging sack onto the floor.

"Happy Yuletide, everyone! Did you save some pudding for me?"

Fili's voice rang out as he pulled back the hood of his cloak and shrugged it off, snow falling off it in clumps, and Sigrid, after a moment of surprise and delight, rose from her chair and hurried to help him. Snow seemed to have forced its way into every nook and cranny of his clothing, despite his jacket and heavy cloak, and even his braids were stiff with frost.

"Oh, love, you're frozen," she said, taking his face in her hands. "But I'm so glad you made it through. Come and warm up by the fire."

He stole a couple of chaste kisses, conscious that hers weren't the only eyes on him, and they made their way to the hearth, the family shuffling their chairs around to make room for him.

"It's pretty bad out there," he said, shaking Bard's hand and clapping Bain on the back. "It's a good thing Mindy knows what she's doing in the snow. She's warming up in the barn with a bucket of oats."

Tilda gave Fili a hug. "I'm glad you're here, Fili. Sigrid was getting very glum waiting for you." Fili smiled and ruffled her hair, then she looked up at her father in hope and excitement. "Da, now that Fili's here, we can give out the gifts!"

"Let him warm up first, child!" Bard replied. "Here, Fili." Bard handed Fili a cup of the warm mulled wine, and he sipped it gratefully. He smiled at Tilda as he defrosted, steam wafting upwards from his hair.

"I left my sack by the back door, Tilda. If you could bring it over here for me, we could see whether there might be something in it for you."

Tilda gave a whoop of joy and ran to fetch the sack. Fili finished his wassail and gave his hands a last rub, holding them up to the fire, then reached into the sack to hand out the gifts he had brought for everyone: some new puzzles for Tilda, a silver cloak clasp for Bain, and a silver filigree ink-pot for Bard. He saved Sigrid's gift for last, but before he could give it to her she took hold of his hands and stopped him.

"No, open mine first, my love," she murmured. "You still haven't warmed up properly, and maybe it will help." She handed him a large, squashy parcel, wrapped in a cloth and tied with a bow, and waited nervously while he felt it, looking at her in amusement with a dimpled smirk and narrowed eyes. He finally opened it, and held it up. It was a knitted jumper, made of red dyed wool and patterned around the shoulders and chest with zigzags, snowflakes and diamonds in contrasting green and white. He grinned at Sigrid, and immediately pulled off his jacket and shirt and tried it on.

"So this was what you were up to, sneaking off for hours at a time," he chuckled, as she slid her fingers under his hair to pull it out from the neck of the jumper. "Knitting me a jumper. I love it."

He shrugged his shoulders and circled his arms a few times, then held them out to look at the sleeves, and presented himself to Sigrid for inspection.

"How do I look?"

She tilted her head and looked at him appraisingly. "Very Yuletidey. And handsome. And warm."

He laughed happily, then, on the pretext of refilling his wine cup, drew Sigrid away from the other three, who were exchanging gifts noisily by the hearth. As he passed the kitchen table he gave Sigrid a wink and pressed down on it a few times.

"Mmm. Sturdy."

She swatted at his arm, laughing. They moved to the side of the room, and he drew her close, and handed her her gift, watching her face for her reaction. She smiled at him, her eyes full of love and just the tiniest bit of anticipatory excitement, and opened it. It was a bracelet, made from intricately linked gold chains, with a gold token in the shape of heart, set with a single ruby, dangling from it. She looked up from it in wonder.

"Did you make this? Fili, it's beautiful." She held out her wrist and he clasped the bracelet around it.

"I made all the gifts. Isn't that the spirit of Yuletide?" he said softly. "You've learned so much about my people's customs, love, it's about time I learned some of yours. What do we do next?"

She put her arms around him. "Well, usually there'd be carollers, and Da would reward them with the wine and pudding, but the weather's too awful. No-one but you would have braved it, my love. But never mind, we'll just have to sing some carols ourselves, and then we'll have our roast supper."

"I brought my violin. You can teach me some of your carols." He snuggled her closer to his chest. "Are there any more traditions I should know about?"

Sigrid looked up. They were standing under the lintel of the hallway, and a large bunch of mistletoe sprigs was hanging above them, the green leaves and white berries tied with a red ribbon.

"There's one more that comes to mind," she whispered, and she slid her hands into his hair and pressed her lips to his.


End file.
